


Deliver Us From Sorrow’s Hold

by xForEverythingElse (PrimaryScavQueen)



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Nudity, Post Episode 1.06 "Smells Like Teen Spirit"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 23:42:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18020717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimaryScavQueen/pseuds/xForEverythingElse
Summary: After Liz learns the truth from Max, she seeks comfort from the one human that makes her feel safest.





	Deliver Us From Sorrow’s Hold

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, ect, are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
> 
> Authors's Note: The title comes from the Evanescence song "My Heart Is Broken" I feel like it sums Liz up quite perfectly. I adore her and Kyle as a ship and have been itching to write about them. Also this is unbeta-ed so please forgive any mistakes. (Edited some mistakes I caught on a re-read March 7, 2019)

 

 

She’s hollow, fragile. Something like glass. 

 

No. Not glass. 

 

Glass can be sturdy, solid and she’s neither of those things since Max revealed the truth of Rosa’s death. She’s chaos, the thunder that announces an oncoming storm. 

 

Liz doesn’t know how she makes it to Kyle’s. One minute she’s leaving Max’s, the next thing she knows, she’s standing on his porch, pounding on his door until her knuckles are aching.

 

When the door opens, Kyle fills the doorway, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt that clings to the broad muscle of his chest. He looks as beat up as she feels, dark eyes somber, rimmed with red. 

 

“Liz? What—?” 

 

She opens her mouth but she can’t form words. Her knees buckle and he catches her, his arms strong and secure. So so secure. Air wrings from her lungs when his fingertips grip her right before he lifts her easily up into his arms and carries her inside, shutting the door with a quick kick.

 

She buries her face into the side of his neck and makes a noise, something that’s akin to a wail but with an angry edge of a scream. Liz thought herself to be glass, something empty, but Kyle’s hands send electricity to her nerves, sharp and raw, as he settles her down onto the couch. He kneels before her, cradled by her open thighs.

 

“Breathe, Liz, breathe with me.” His voice is calm against the storm that swirls like a maelstrom within her.

 

She tries to follow along with his coaching, manages a few breaths that make it into her lungs. She knows grief as intimately as a lover and it settles in her chest with a frightening ease. Her heart squeezes tight—too tight, sends pain wrenching through her body.

 

Kyle doesn’t ask her anything, just works on soothing her with gentle, sturdy hands that rub careful circles along her spine. The only sturdy thing in her world. 

 

After her tears dry on her cheeks and she can breathe again, she slides down from the couch and straddles his lap. Her arms curl around his neck, clinging tight. His lips find her forehead in a gentle kiss.

 

“I’ve got you.” He murmurs.

 

The truth of his words settle into her, couple with the weight of his arms around her. Kyle’s her safe harbor, he’s her anchor. He’s her comfort and she wants to absorb that feeling all the way down to her bones.

 

Finally, she finds her voice and lifts her head. Her hand moves to cup his jaw, his dark stubble scratching her skin.

 

“I’m so proud of the man you’ve become.” Her words are thick, in Spanish because her brain is too exhausted for English.

 

A small smile crosses his lips and his dark eyes are soft. “Thank you.” His answer is in Spanish as well and she can see the echo of exhaustion in him. 

 

Wordlessly, she rises and extends her hand. He slides his palm along hers and gets to his feet, following as she leads him into the master bathroom. 

 

She needs a shower, she still smells like gasoline and smoke and it churns her stomach. A shiver runs down her spine when her mind momentarily takes her back to that box, trapped as it begins to burn. Wyatt nearly killed her for a second time. 

 

There will not be a third.

 

She strips in silence and Kyle watches as he leans against the counter.

 

“Are you going to tell me what happened?” He asks, still using Spanish, folding his arms across his chest.

 

Liz steps into the large shower stall and closes the glass door. Twisting the handle on the wall, water flows from the shower head in the ceiling above her. Closing her eyes, she focuses on the feeling of the warm water that slides over her. Once her is soaked through her hair, she draws a breath and opens her eyes, meeting Kyle’s gaze as the steam begins cloud the glass.

 

Licking her lips, she exhales with a little shudder. “I learned so many things tonight. So many horrible things. Things about what happened to Rosa and the accident...” she swallows as her throat tightens, trying to ease the pain, “Things I can’t bring myself to talk about yet...”

 

She sees movement outside the shower wall and a moment later, the door opens. Face lined with deep concern, Kyle steps inside; he’s shed his clothes as well and she’s grateful. The all consuming horror of it all is building and she wants to comfort of his naked body against hers to drown it out. Liz reaches out for him and he joins her under the wide spray.

 

“Before I learned the truth, Wyatt tried to kill me. Again.” She wraps her arms around his waist, resting her cheek against his smooth, hard chest, “He shot at me, knocked me out, put me in a crate, and set it on fire.” 

 

Kyle’s hands tighten on the curves of her hips and he steps back. Releasing one hand from her waist, he catches her chin and gently tips it up towards his. There’s a dark look in his brown eyes, something angry, something violent. 

 

She shivers but not from fear. Liz was never and will never be scared of him. 

 

“He’s a dead man.” Kyle’s voice is almost a hiss.

 

“He’ll get his due.” Liz answers thickly.

 

After all, Wyatt didn’t just attempt to kill her but actually murdered Grant. Then tried to kill Max as well. And with Max being a cop, there was sure to be a harsh sentencing. White hot anger mixes with uneasy betrayal ripped through her as she pictures Max’s face, remembering him on the ground bleeding. Then the tears in his eyes before she walked away after he finally told her what happened to Rosa.

 

She doesn’t want to think of him. Not now. Liz turns, searching for shampoo. But her hands give away her inner turmoil, shaking as she reaches out to grab it. Kyle’s hand reaches around hers and picks the bottle up.

 

She turns back, finding him pouring a generous amount into his palm.

 

“Come here.” He murmurs.

 

Liz closes the space and he massages the shampoo into her hair, strong fingers swirling along her scalp, leaving something like bliss in their wake. She lets her eyes drift shut as he finishes washing her hair and guides her back under the spray. 

 

Then his hands are on her body. They’re slick with soap and glide along her curves, washing the grimy feeling away. Now if he could only do the same for her mind. She opens her eyes when she hears the soft creak of the handle and the water stops flowing.

 

Kyle steps out first and wraps a towel around his waist. She hovers by the door, shivering as the cool air brushes past and raises goosebumps on her skin. The oversized white towel he wraps around her is soft and he hands her another, smaller one. 

 

She quickly wraps her hair in it and steps out into the bathroom. Kyle heads out of the room and she follows after him. He slowly sinks into the edge of his bed. He’s taken such good care of her, with barely a question, without pushing for the full truth. 

 

Liz wants to do the same for him. 

 

“What can I do for you?” She asks quietly.

 

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to think about anything right now.”

 

A wry smile curves her lips. “I know the feeling.”

 

“Honestly, I just want to sleep for a few days and not have to focus on anything. The mess that has become our lives will still be there when we resurface.”

 

She nods. He’s not wrong. They can’t escape the truth of their lives, of fallen heroes, murder, lies, and aliens. And the deeper they dig into the past, the darker and more twisted everything becomes. They can’t escape but they can create moments of normalcy. Moments like now. She unfurls the towels and climbs into bed. 

 

The sheets are cool but Kyle’s body is warm as he joins her. Liz wiggles close and settles her head in his chest. His heartbeat is steady and she lets it become her focus. Kyle’s fingertips skim her spine in idle strokes. 

 

Nothing can change the past, uncovering it has led to nothing but pain. Pain that’s twisting and growing and putting down roots in her chest, in her heart.

 

But right now? She’s in Kyle’s arms. As long as she has him, she’s safe. Cared for. Breathing him in, brushes a kiss to his throat.

 

“Thank you.” She whispers against his skin, “For taking care of me when there’s something obviously bothering you too.”

 

“It’s nothing.”

 

Liz rises up onto her elbow and looks down at his face. “It’s everything.” Her voice cracks and she swallows hard against the lump that threatens to choke her, steal her voice.

 

Kyle curls his hand around the nape of her neck and pulls her down to his lips, dropping kisses to her forehead, eyebrows, closed eyelids. His lips are warm and soft but his stubble scratches across her skin, a gentle burn that she doesn’t mind if it means he keeps kissing her.

 

“Promise me you’ll never stop?” The words explode from lips, bypassing any filter.

 

“Never stop what?” He looks amused and confused all at once; his expression is something of adoration.

 

“Protecting me. Making me feel safe.” She gives him a little smile, “Kissing me.”

 

A laugh rumbles through his chest and she can feel the vibrations from where she lays across him. He cups her face in his large hands, his words solemn. “I promise.”

 

She kisses him again, silently vowing to do all in her power to do the same.

 

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
